There Will Be Stars
by highland laurel
Summary: This story follows "Not In Our Stars" from the first season of the DB series. It contains characters previously created in the other "Stars" stories posted here. It includes the character Lord Dunsmore as created for the DB series, and some plot from NIOS
1. Chapter 1

There Will Be Stars

_A star is beautiful…simply by being what it is. __Thomas Carlyle_

Chapter 1

The small brass key had probably once been buried deep in the soft Kentucky soil. The heavy rain from two days ago must have exposed it for the first time in years. Mingo leaned over and carefully pried it loose from its moldy bed with his long slender fingers. Then he stood and held it up to the fading April sunlight.

It did not look like a key that would open a door. It was small and finely made, almost fragile. There was no marking on it with the exception of a partial initial. Puzzling the find over in his mind, Mingo glanced at his mother's burial scaffold in the near distance. He had spent the afternoon beneath her bier, conversing with her in his memory.

The recent confrontation with his father, the Royal Governor of Virginia, left a bitter taste in his mouth that still remained. The titled Englishman was as duplicitous as always. His plan to displace hundreds of settlers from Ken-tah-teh opened all the shuttered memories in his mind. He was very uncomfortable at their re-emergence.

Turning the small key over in his fingers as he walked, he strode back to his lodge near his uncle's. He ducked through the narrow door and stretched out onto his woven willow bed. Lying with one hand under his head Mingo let his mind create possibilities for the key resting in his hand.

It was evident that no Cherokee buried this token of possession. If the key belonged to one of his people it would have been used as decoration for all to see, not buried. Cherokee people had no need for keys as they had no locks. Accumulation of wealth, though not unknown, was seen very differently than in European cultures.

For Cherokee people wealth was a symbol of power, true. But it was not used to elevate one member of the society over another. Rather it was evidence of skill in battle, evidence of one's leadership. Theft was virtually unknown within the town. A thief would be ostracized, the most shameful penalty imposed.

Mingo laid thinking as the last rays of the spring sun left his tiny window. The conclusion was unavoidable. The key had once belonged to John Murray, the Earl of Dunsmore. The only mystery remaining was whether the key had been lost or purposely buried. Sighing, Mingo turned to lie on his side as his eyes closed with weariness. He would think more about the key tomorrow. Tonight all he wanted was sleep.

He awoke hours later. Moonlight lit the interior of his small lodge. The stacks of books rose like pillars in the dim light. Memories fluttered from their closed covers like startled birds. With a sigh of resignation he rose and pushed his way into the coolness of the predawn. Moments later he was at the edge of the dense forest. A misty radiance glowed all around him.

The key rested beneath his belt, its rigid metal pressing into his side like a chastising finger. "You're not going to let me rest, are you?" Mingo murmured to the symbol of his father's presence. "Alright, I'll just have to discover your secret. Maybe that will be enough to bury you forever."

The bright-eyed squirrel in the ash tree above him cocked its head questioningly and chattered. Mingo glanced up and chuckled softly. "Confused? Me too. Why won't my mind release this grasping, pathetic man whose entire purpose in life seems to be tormenting me? He's like a ghost that burns away in the sunlight but returns in darkness to haunt me again and again."

The shiver that passed through his lean body could have been from the morning chill. But more likely it was caused by his uneasy reaction to the thought of ghosts. The Cherokee blood flowing through his veins made him very cautious about mentioning the unseen world. Henry Pitcairn's frightened white face floated through his mind. He too had been troubled by ghosts. With great effort he pushed the face away and straightened his vest. The hidden key poked uncomfortably into his hip bone.

Coming to a decision Mingo returned to his lodge, reached inside and removed his rifle. He swung his accoutrements over his shoulder. With long easy strides he walked to the northwest towards Boonesborough. If his suspicion was correct the settlers there could verify it. One of them would recognize what the key opened.

The early morning began to come alive with birdsong. He whistled along with the nesting birds and the hours sped by. The gates of Boonesborough came into sight before the afternoon sun slipped behind the trees. Striding through the open gates he saw both Daniel and Yadkin coming toward him from the tavern. The two men were embroiled in a heavy discussion concerning a mutual acquaintance from the Carolinas. Mingo stepped to the side to avoid being run down.

"Confound it, Mingo, I just about knocked you over! Where'd you come from?" Yadkin blustered.

Mingo grinned and faced the blonde frontiersman. "After all this time you don't know, Yad? And you're a grown man!"

Yadkin blushed scarlet at Mingo's double entendre. Beside him Daniel produced his crooked smile. "You're feelin' a bit feisty today aren't you Mingo?"

"Not at all. I was simply pointing out my surprise at Yad's innocence."

The two men laughed at Yad's continuing discomfort. Mingo slapped his friend on his buckskinned shoulder and suggested that the three of them return to the tavern. Daniel's eyebrows rose above his spring-green eyes but he turned and followed Mingo into the large establishment. Yad trailed behind, willing the blush to fade from his ruddy cheeks.

"What would you gentlemen like to have?" Mingo asked. "My treat."

Yad's blonde eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Your treat? I ain't agoin to let you off the hook now Mingo. I'd like a mug o' rum."

"Daniel?"

"I think a cup of tea would be better for me."

Yad grinned broadly. "Afraid of what Becky'd say about another rum, Dan'l?"

Daniel grinned in response. Mingo walked to the bar, ordered, then carried the drinks to the plank table. Yad grunted his thanks and took a long swallow. Daniel sipped his tea. Mingo did likewise, the full pot before him on the table. Now and then Daniel shot a questioning glance to the Cherokee at his side. Mingo noticed but gave no sign. When he judged enough time had passed in small talk he pulled the intricate brass key from his belt. "Daniel, Yadkin, I found this key buried in the ground just outside Chota. Do either one of you have any idea what it would open?"

Daniel took the key from Mingo's hand and held it in two fingers. Yad looked at the delicate object dwarfed by his friend's large hand. He shook his head and spoke to Daniel. "Kinda looks like a key to a little box of some sort, don't it Dan'l? Or maybe a trunk?"

Daniel nodded his head in agreement. "It does. But what kind of a box? And where is it now? You didn't find a box buried nearby?"

Mingo looked chagrined. "To tell you the truth, Daniel, I didn't look. I didn't think about it."

Daniel looked deeply into his friend's dark eyes. It was unlike Mingo not to think of several possibilities for a puzzle. This lack of care caused a small idea to grow in his mind. Mingo dropped his eyes, hiding from his friend. Daniel's suspicions grew immediately.

"Yad, I think I'm going to head on home. It's nearly supper time and Becky'll be testy if I'm late. See you tomorrow or the next day. Let me know if you remember the widow Billow's daughter."

"Dan'l, I done tole you that her name was Bessie. I distinctly remember. I called her Bee 'cause o' her two names."

"I think you're wrong. **I **remember her name being Evie. I thought of her every time the sun went down because of her name."

The two old friends gave every evidence of continuing their disagreement. Mingo rose impatiently and walked toward the door. Behind him Daniel scurried to catch up. After only a minute or two Daniel cleared his throat, preparing to explore the suspicions Mingo had aroused.

"Mingo, this key you found. You said near Chota. It wouldn't have been near the spot where your daddy lived with you and Talota would it?"

Mingo skidded to a halt and faced his friend. "What made you suspect that?"

"The way you're not meetin' my eyes for one thing."

Mingo pressed his lips together in aggravation. Silently he stared off into the deepening darkness. Sighing heavily, he admitted the truth to Daniel's words. "I will go back tomorrow and look for the box. I did not think of that possibility."

"I know it. That's how I figured out this key is connected to your daddy somehow. You're always so careful to think of all the possibilities. This time you didn't think of 'em at all. That means you're mighty troubled about something. And since we just got though havin' that set-to with your daddy, I figured it must be connected to him."

Mingo did not reply but dropped his eyes to Daniel's feet. "Daniel, everything about that man troubles me. Everything."

Nodding in understanding Daniel pulled his friend to walk beside him. Together they stepped onto the cabin porch. Israel burst from the interior and hugged Mingo's leg excitedly. Daniel grinned and patted his son's blonde head. "So I'm number two when Mingo comes, is that it? Givin' my hugs to this Cherokee. I've a mind to just turn around and go back to Cincinnatus."

"Ah, Pa, you know I'm always glad to see you. It's just I don't get to see Mingo as much!"

Daniel laughed and mussed his son's hair. Mingo squeezed Israel's shoulders affectionately. "How long are you stayin' Mingo? Can you take me fishin' tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not Israel. I have a puzzle to solve. It's a mystery that I need to understand. Once I find the answer to the mystery I will take you fishing."

"Promise?"

"On my honor. But I don't know how long it will be."

"That's alright. Just don't forget!" Israel again hugged Mingo's long leg and the three entered the firelit cabin for a meal of squirrel stew, corn dodgers and a berry cobbler.

The warm friendship began to ease Mingo's mind and he gratefully settled into his accustomed place opposite Israel Boone. The evening progressed in familiarity. Soon he slipped under his blankets and fell into a restful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rebecca sat gently rocking, sipping a last cup of coffee. Though she was pretending otherwise she was thinking about Mingo's strained face in the firelight. Something was troubling their family friend, something painful. Daniel came back through the door with another load of firewood. "You know, Dan, that **is** Israel's duty. He shouldn't get away with neglecting it."

Daniel nodded at his wife, then grinned. "I reckon I am too easy on him. Jemima is so thorough that I forget that Israel isn't. I'll speak to him tomorrow, I promise."

"The two are very, very different. I don't think it's due entirely to the fact that Jemima is a girl, or that she's older."

"Nope. That's just the way they are. But you're right Becky. I need to be tougher on Israel."

Becky sat watching her husband stack the wood beside the fireplace. "Dan, what's bothering Mingo? He was awfully quiet. Even when Israel peppered him with all his questions about the beadwork on his boots he only answered with a few words. It's not like Mingo to ignore Israel."

"No it's not. The tricks played on us by his lordship last year are still working on him. Then yesterday he found a small key near his mother's burial scaffold. I don't pretend to know what he's thinkin' but I know he's bothered."

"What does the key belong to? Does Mingo know?"

"I don't think so. He showed it to me'n Yad today and asked us what we thought it belonged to. It looks like maybe it would unlock a box of keepsakes."

"Does he still have it?"

"He put it back behind his belt. Why? Don't ask him about it Becky. If he wanted you to know he'd have shown you."

Becky frowned at her tall husband. "Well maybe, just maybe **I** know what it belongs to! You men don't know everything even though you think you do." She got to her feet and walked angrily into their curtained bedroom. Dan could hear her muttering to herself, her voice edgy with hurt feelings.

She did have a point. It was possible that she would recognize the kind of lock that would fit Mingo's key. The problem was how to show Becky without making Mingo irritated. Dan thought for a while, then grunted impatiently. He could think of no way to let Becky see the key without asking Mingo to show her. Slipping into bed moments later he could tell his wife was still aggravated at him. She turned her back on him. He laid thinking until the moon began to slide toward morning.

Just at daylight Mingo pulled Daniel aside as soon as the tall man stepped out of his front door. Pulling the key from behind his belt Mingo held it up to the early morning light. "Daniel, does this marking look like a letter to you?"

Daniel took the key and rubbed his thumb over the indented symbol. Seconds later he nodded to the friend beside him. "It does, but I can't tell what letter it might be. Can you?"

"I thought about it as I was falling asleep last night. It could be an F, a P, a B, or an R.

I'm thinking that it is a key from a bank."

Daniel's brown brows rose as he thought about Mingo's guess. It made sense to him that John Murray would have had a bank key in one of his pockets. They looked at each other. Then Daniel spoke to the Cherokee beside him. "Well Mingo, if you're right how do you go about narrowing it down? And why do you care? That key must have been in the ground for a long time. Your daddy's been gone from Chota for more'n twenty years. No doubt he made another key years ago."

A veil dropped before Mingo's eyes. Daniel saw the effort to hide and was instantly alerted. "Mingo, what are you tryin' to hide from me?" Dan's voice was soft, intimate. "If'n you don't want to tell me, that's your business. But I'll listen if you do."

Mingo swallowed and clenched his jaw. Seconds passed. Finally he turned to his friend, his face taut with memory. "After Lord Dunsmore visited Rebecca and tried to get her to accept his bribe, he went to Chota. He hid near my mother's scaffold. When I went to honor her, he stepped out of the shadows and surprised me. That was when he tried to entice me into joining him in ruling Kentucky for the Crown."

"What? He did what?"

"You heard me. Once again he offered me his precious title. He wanted me to betray you, all of you. Of course he didn't say that. Oh no, that would be too crass for Lord Dunsmore."

"He covered his rotten betrayal in noble cloth. His words all concerned my duty to my mother's people. He intimated that I should join his cause and take back Kentucky for the Cherokee. Then he and I could administer the territory together, as he and the Crown saw fit. He would be the power behind my throne, so to speak. What I'd really be was his puppet!"

Daniel stared at Mingo's agitated face. His friend had told him nothing about the secret midnight meeting. Suddenly Mingo's strange statement in the Governor's mansion made sense. "I was only being an obedient son," he had said with a look of satisfaction.

"He knows me too well, Daniel. The offer was tailor-made for me, a self-sacrifice for the good of my Cherokee people." Mingo sadly shook his head. "He has never given up his dream regarding my acceptance of his title. I know he doesn't want it for my sake. He has no real concern for my well-being."

Daniel waved his hand in a small denial. Mingo's eyes gleamed as his contradiction floated into the morning air. "No Daniel, I know what I'm talking about. He's embarrassed that his offering has so little value to me. It magnifies his failures. In a way my rejection cheapens the whole concept of titles. **That** is what is important to him. Do you understand?"

"I never thought about it that way but I do see your point. You're an educated man who's not impressed with an English title, something that he's been brought up to believe is envied by everyone else in the world. He can't understand how you can refuse it." Daniel's face was drawn into an expression of deep thought.

"Yes. He thinks I'm being stubborn, or waiting for a higher offer. So he tried to word his idea in such a way that it would seem my best chance. Does he really think I am so blind? Or I'm that stupid?" Mingo stared at the ground, his face reflecting his inner turmoil.

Daniel though about Mingo's question as he watched the sun rise above the summer trees. He stubbed his toe into the soft Kentucky soil as he replied. "No, Mingo, I doubt your daddy thinks you're blind **or** stupid. It was his best argument. He had to make it."

Mingo looked deeply into his friend's eyes. The words seeped into his mind and he nodded his agreement. Unthinkingly he fingered the key whose outline Daniel could see through the cloth of the Cherokee's belt.

Becky's words of the previous night tickled his brain. He cleared his throat. "Mingo, that key you've got there; suppose Becky would know more about it? Me and Yad gave you our opinion, but if Becky doesn't think it's a box maybe we could start thinkin' a different direction."

In response Mingo pulled the little key from his belt again and entered through the open cabin door. He walked to Becky beside the crackling hearth. She looked up into his face and smiled. "Rebecca, I found a key two days ago and I'm puzzled as to what it might fit. Do you recognize this kind of key?" He held it out cradled in the palm of his brown hand.

Becky reached for it and turned it over in her hand. Her tapered fingers caressed the smooth brass. She again looked into her friend's dark eyes. The pain hidden there made her wince. "I think it belongs to a drawer or desk. It's too large to belong to a box."

"I thought last night that maybe it could be a bank key."

"It could be, but it's such a pretty key that I doubt it. I think this belongs to a piece of furniture of some sort." Becky handed the key back to Mingo and bent once more over the cooking breakfast. Mingo stared at the key as he walked to seat himself at the Boone's table. Israel came scuffling down the ladder buttoning his shirt. He plopped himself beside his friend and took the key from the man's hand.

"That's sure a pretty key Mingo. Where'd you get it?"

Mingo looked down into Israel's puzzled face and smiled. "I found it two days ago, Israel. It is a pretty key."

"What's it belong to?"

"That is a puzzle to me too. Your mother and father have been trying to help me decide that."

Before Israel could delay any further Daniel pulled on his arm. They disappeared through the open cabin door. Seconds later Jemima walked softly into the room with the morning's eggs and milk. She smiled at Mingo sitting silently at the table. After intercepting a look from her mother she set the table, all the while engaging Mingo in small talk about the lovely weather. The mysterious key was once again hidden behind the Cherokee's belt.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After breakfast Mingo excused himself. He spent time inside his shelter straightening the blankets, grateful for the time to be alone. Pondering Rebecca's idea, he sat down on the folded bedding and once again looked at the little key. The deeply incised letter was filled with dirt. In the bright morning light Mingo could see that the letter was more fully formed than he had realized.

With his thumbnail he dug the Kentucky soil from the letter. He moistened his finger and rubbed it once again. It was plainly a "G". Partially resting on top of the "G" was another mark. Mingo caught his lower lip under his upper teeth as he carefully exposed the symbol. It too was a letter. The letter "L". Suddenly Mingo's eyes widened in understanding. He closed his hand over the key as he heard the approaching footsteps.

"Well, Mingo, are you going to go back and dig for the box?" Daniel's guileless green eyes sparkled in the bright light. Mingo felt a twinge of guilt as he hid his suspicions from his dear friend.

"No, I don't think there's any need. I've been thinking about it all morning and I don't believe there is a box. From the position of the key I think it was dropped."

"You reckon Becky's right about it bein' from a desk?"

"It could be. But it still might be a bank key."

"If it's a bank key you might be holdin' a fortune in your hand there. The problem is deciding which bank it could be. If your father dropped it like you think, do you know where he banks?"

Mingo's facial muscles twitched. Daniel saw the flinch and frowned. Mingo turned from his friend and pushed the key back behind his belt. Gathering his belongings, he stood facing the south.

"Goin' back to Chota?" Daniel said quietly.

Mingo nodded in silence. Then he glanced back at Daniel, his eyes never meeting the green eyes before him. "Please give my regards to your family. I will see them later in the year." He smiled slightly and continued. "Please tell Israel that I will take him fishing at that time."

Daniel reached out a large warm hand to Mingo's shoulder. "Mingo, if you don't want me to know your business, tell me that. I'll accept it."

Mingo hung his head. He sighed very deeply, his lips pressed tightly together and every muscle in his body rigid with tension. Long seconds passed before he raised his black head to his friend before him. "Daniel, I know where the key came from. There are two letters, an "L" and a "G". My father ships from England on the same vessel every time if he can. He and the captain are acquainted. It is the _Lady Grey_. She sails from Philadelphia."

"You're going all the way to Philadelphia? What if the ship isn't there? You plannin' on spending however long it takes to wait for it?"

"I don't honestly know. I may just walk to Boonesborough and send the key to the captain. I may walk to Williamsburg. I may send the key from there. I may walk to the Philadelphia dock where I first stepped onto American soil upon my return from exile. All I know is that I must get rid of this key, and I can't in good conscience rebury it and forget it."

"Mingo, it's possible that the desk that key fits holds more of those fake documents your father tried to use against us."

"I know that. And if it does I will destroy them. But it is not honest to keep this key. I must find out what lock it opens." 'And what chambers it may open in my heart,' Mingo thought uneasily.

Daniel grunted with irritation. "Mingo, it might not be the most honest thing to do, but knowin' your daddy's fondness for manipulation it might be the smartest thing!"

"My father's predilection for falsehood is exactly why I wish to remain completely honest." Mingo's warm voice was cold with suppressed anger.

"I understand that, but it's not just you I'm thinkin' about. What about my family, and your family? I know Lord Dunsmore is gone from the colonies but I don't think he's given up advancing himself any way he can. Do you?"

Mingo's face betrayed the truth before he could pull the shutters over his countenance. Daniel saw, and Mingo knew that he had. "What do you want me to do, Daniel? What do you expect from me?" Mingo's voice was sharp, barbed with irritation.

"I want you to do what you know is the right thing."

The words spoken so quietly hung between the two men. Mingo raised his eyes and looked boldly into Daniel's face. "I will seek the _Lady Grey_."

"You want to do that alone? Or do you want me'n Yad to come with you, keep you company on the trail?"

Mingo smiled fondly. "Thank you. I appreciate your offer very much. But you have a family Daniel. And Yadkin has amusements here. I don't need you to watch over me. Besides, I have many memories to keep me company."

"You'll want to stop by the settlement and get more supplies. I'll go with you that far." Daniel walked back into the cabin. He returned a few minutes later with his family trailing behind him. Becky walked to Mingo's side and hugged him warmly. Mingo instantly understood the reason for the embrace. He returned the pressure, then released his friend. Jemima did as her mother, then Israel. The intense affection shown to him caused Mingo to feel both uncomfortable and grateful.

Daniel waved and together the two men began their easy stride to the walls of Boonesborough visible in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The trip through the Gap brought hours of memories to Mingo's mind. He thought of Charles Hays and the invaluable information the slight Pennsylvanian had given him. He remembered hours of reading beside innumerable campfires, his dun mule Shakespeare munching contentedly nearby. Trail markers sprang into his mind as he walked. Familiar vistas beckoned. The days passed quickly in their cycle of sun and shade.

Weeks later he stood before the Governor's mansion in Williamsburg. His own words echoed in his mind: "I was only being an obedient son." Memories of his father's surprised face, his agitated behavior, refused to leave him in peace. Disgraced, the governor soon left the colony. Dreams of glory trailed after him like dissipating mist.

Mingo couldn't escape his own feelings of both pride and shame as he stood before the tall iron gates. Pride that he and his Kentucky friends had foiled the British plans to exert an unbearable pressure on the settlers west of the mountains. Shame that it was his father who was the architect of that pressure. Impatiently he pulled the gate's brass bell. A guard approached after only seconds. "Excuse me, but do you know where Governor Dunsmore has gone?"

The resplendently coated guard only stared at Mingo's Cherokee dress. He seemed fascinated by the two feathers rising proudly from the back of his black head. Mingo cleared his throat to draw the guard back to the question .

"I don't know where his Lordship went after here. And if I did I sure wouldn't tell the likes o' you!" The guard spun around and retreated behind the manicured hedge.

Aggravated but not surprised Mingo walked toward the crossroads to Yorktown. He spent the night with Nancy and Walter Williams in their comfortable inn renewing their deep friendship. Leaving the next morning after Nancy's excellent breakfast, he amused himself thinking about the breakfast and the key sharing the same position behind his belt.

The docks at Yorktown contained few ships. Mingo easily canvassed them all. The _Lady Grey_ was not among them. He had not expected that she would be. Deciding that a passage by water would be much quicker and easier than overland, he bought a ticket to Philadelphia. He carried his meager belongings aboard a small ship named the _Sandpiper._

He was the only passenger, a fact that gratified him. He was not in the mood to explain himself to anyone. All day long he stood holding to the rail in the bow of the ship, watching the horizon. More memories accompanied the ship's motion as it sliced its way through the sea.

Fighting the memories tired him and he slept many hours of each day. After only five days riding the Gulf Stream the _Sandpiper_ pulled alongside the Philadelphia docks and Mingo gratefully disembarked. The onshore wind was cool and damp. Mingo hugged his chest with his bare arms as he walked along the pier seeking the _Lady Grey_. He knew that Captain Dary usually made two crossings per year, one as early as possible in the spring and one more just before winter set in. The late spring breeze teased the furled sails of the ships bobbing at anchor.

Suddenly Mingo heard his name called above the flutter of the canvas. He turned, seeking the voice. Striding toward him was a man of medium height. His silvery brown hair blew in the sea breeze, his blue eyes were bright with recognition. Strong right hand extended, Christopher Dary walked to shake Mingo's own.

"Edmund! I hardly recognized you," the captain proclaimed.

"How did you? I was expecting to have to find you. I didn't expect you to recognize me!"

"Your walk. You have a distinctive walk. I noticed it years ago."

Mingo grinned for the first time in weeks. "I'm surprised you could see that while I was trying to maintain my balance on the _Lady Grey_'s pitching deck!"

"Oh, I didn't notice it then. I watched you when you left the _Lady_. I'll never forget it. You strode down the gangplank so eager to meet your future, a bag of books slung over your shoulder. I've always prayed that the future you so longed for was good to you."

Captain Dary's eyes lost their sparkle. He continued quietly. "Has it been?"

Mingo's eyes searched the captain's face. "Why would you ask me that? You know something about my father's plots, don't you?"

"I always knew that you were a perceptive man. Come aboard the _Lady_ and let's talk. It **is** good to see you Edmund. I mean that."

Mingo looked into his friend's face several seconds. "Captain, before I do that I want you to start calling me by my name. I am Caramingo. My friends call me Mingo. I consider you my friend."

"My friends call me Chris."

Mingo smiled in understanding. Captain Dary returned the smile. The two men walked up the bobbing plank. The captain's cabin was exactly as Mingo remembered it. The paneled walls gleamed. Everything was neatly stowed in its own place. The captain removed his hat and poured two snifters of brandy. He handed one to his guest.

The brandy warmed him as he sat in the last rays of the May sunlight. Captain Dary talked of his crossings, his own family waiting in England and the interesting passengers he'd ferried across the Atlantic. Mingo sat listening silently, grateful for the captain's understanding. When he rose to light the lamps in the cabin Mingo shifted in his chair uneasily. The captain saw but ignored it. He stepped from the cabin to speak to his steward.

Mingo stood and walked around the comfortable room. His eyes searched for any lock. Finally, as he turned from the tall windows at the back of the cabin he spied locked drawers in the captain's desk. Holding his discovery close, he walked casually back to his chair. He seated himself just as the captain came into the room. "I think you'll enjoy the dinner being prepared. I'd like to offer you a cabin below decks for the night. It would please me if you'd accept." Captain Dary stood inside the door, waiting.

Mingo stood and set the snifter on the table. "Thank you. That sounds wonderful to me. I remember how comfortable the _Lady_'s beds were when I crossed with you years ago."

"Would you like your old cabin? Go ahead and put your belongings there. I'll send the steward with hot water and towels. Dinner will be ready in an hour."

Mingo nodded and walked to his old cabin. He was surprised to remember its location. The hot water refreshed him and he arrived at the table an hour later well-groomed and clean.

The meal was excellent, a broasted fowl with all the trimmings. The dessert was a bread pudding splashed with heavy cream. Both men enjoyed the food and each other's company. Captain Dary skillfully brought the conversation around to Mingo's Cherokee life. The British expatriate regaled his host for an hour, his voice bright. Finally the captain asked the question both men had danced around for hours. "Mingo, why are you here?

Mingo replied. "The answer is twofold. One, as my journey with you years ago approached its end you told me to come to you if I ever needed help. I need your help now."

"Two, the reason I need your help is because I found a key. Before I tell you about the key, you must understand several things." Mingo spent the next hour telling Chris Dary everything that he knew about Lord Dunsmore's experiences as the royal governor of Virginia. When he finished Mingo swallowed the last of the brandy still in his snifter. Wordlessly Chris refilled the glass. He did the same with his own. The two men sat in the dim cabin, alone with their own thoughts.

"Where is the key?" Chris finally asked his visitor.

Mingo reached into his belt and produced the small brass key. He held it out to his friend. The captain took it and walked behind his captain's desk. Mingo heard the click as the key turned smoothly in its lock. The captain slid the drawer from his desk and brought it with him as he sat back down in his chair. "Mingo, your father asked me to keep these things locked away the last time I brought him to the colonies. He was coming to take over the governorship, just as you have told me. I was at sea when the rebellion began. I didn't know of his machinations or his being forced to flee the colony in disgrace. What you have told me now makes clear all the gossip that I've heard since."

Mingo nodded. Chris frowned at the expression on the tall Cherokee's face. "I know you consider your father a bad man. He's greedy, he's expedient, he's preoccupied with duty as he sees it. I'm not sure that means he's a bad man."

"What does a man have to do for you to consider him corrupt? All my memories of you led me to believe that you were honest, a man of principles. Was I wrong? Surely you can't condone theft, lying, fraud, coercion, threats, and bribery?" Mingo's voice growled through the quiet cabin. The captain opposite him didn't look surprised.

"Mingo, I've known your father for most of my life. I don't doubt that he's done everything you're telling me. Have you asked yourself why?"

"Yes, I have. But I don't think knowing why alleviates any of the wrong. I know it's because he considers preserving and advancing his power the most important thing in his life. Before you go any farther, I know that he's probably told you that he's doing it for me. Surely you can't believe that?"

"No, I don't believe that. Your half-brother George will inherit the title. I think he's done what he's done because………What's wrong? Mingo, are you alright?"

Chris leaped from his seat still holding the desk drawer in his hands. Mingo's face had paled noticeably, his hand holding the snifter weakly allowed the glass to tip, spilling brandy onto the polished plank floor.

Mingo swallowed. He blinked hard and fought to control his features. With effort he righted the glass and set it down upon the small table at his side. His dark eyes were filmed with emotion. The captain sat back down on the edge of his chair, carefully watching the man before him.

"Forgive me, captain. Please don't concern yourself, but I find that I am feeling ill. I haven't had such a rich meal in years. Perhaps it's more than I can handle. If you'll excuse me I'll go to my cabin and rest. Shall we continue this discussion in the morning?"

The captain nodded quickly. Mingo stumbled through the cabin doors. He melted into the dark night. Once inside his cabin he fell onto the narrow bunk. Captain Dary's words screamed through his mind. He had a half-brother! His father must have married in England as soon as he'd left for Kentucky after graduation from Oxford. Waves of emotion washed over him as he lay reconciling all the thoughts he'd had for twenty years with the unexpected reality. The stars wheeled in the night sky as the hours sped through the darkness.

Finally, incontrovertibly, Mingo had proof that his father had merely meant to use him. Simply to use him. All the empty promises, all the pretended emotions were only for that purpose. The cabin walls spun around him as he was swallowed by the pit of deep despair


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Before the sun rose above the horizon Mingo stood on the deck of the _Lady Grey_. Captain Dary found him there. With a voice that brooked no refusal he took the shivering Cherokee into the warm cabin to a hearty breakfast of eggs, ham, biscuits and coffee. Mingo ate only one biscuit but drank cup after cup of strong black coffee. He spoke not one word to the concerned captain before him. At last, with no preliminary, Mingo demanded to see the contents of the captain's desk drawer. Silently Captain Dary laid the drawer in his guest's lap, then left the warm cabin.

Mingo sat for several minutes staring out the windows at the sea. Then he carefully looked at every document.

After an hour passed Christopher Dary knocked on the cabin's door. He entered and faced the quiet man seated with his eyes gazing to the east. Mingo faced the captain of the _Lady Grey_. "Do you know what these documents are?"

"No. John gave them to me, watched me lock them in the drawer and took the key."

"They lay out his entire plan to bribe the Tuscarora. Somehow he'd found out about William Penn's various treaties, hatched the idea to defraud the settlers in Kentucky and planned to set up his own fiefdom in Virginia. There are copies of bank drafts here made out in my name. Do you understand me? He prepared to implicate me as the one who defrauded the settlers. These drafts are proof that I was paid to betray them!"

Mingo's voice lashed out harshly in the silent cabin. "He had it planned so carefully. He'd speak to me of my childhood, of the happiness between us when I was a boy. Play on all my sensibilities. Then make his pitch. I can hear his words to this day! 'Think about a Kentucky big enough for both of us,' he said to me."

"How cleverly he used my bitter anger. 'If war should come the land will give birth to a new empire. It will need a strong hand to guide it, one who understands both the Indian and the Crown.' His voice still resonates in my ears." Bitterness dripped from Mingo's lips as he continued. "He made it seem that I was born to save my Cherokee people. I was to bring them to the Crown. I had been groomed to be a titled Englishman. Therefore I possessed the knowledge to qualify as an equal partner. Can you imagine? And all the while he had already given the title to his English son."

"Are you sure, Mingo? You are the elder son. By right it goes to you," Chris said.

Mingo held a letter out to the captain. Written in John Murray's hand it explained to King George that he would once again offer the title to his Cherokee son, but that the offer was never to be considered valid. George Murray, son of Charlotte Stuart Murray and John Murray, Earl of Dunsmore, would inherit the title as the fifth Lord Dunsmore.

"Why would he write that down? I don't understand." A deep frown creased the captain's face.

"In case the plot went awry and I was condemned, Chris! He could disown me. There's no mention of what he said to me that night. He could have used me and discarded me at his convenience after the Cherokee were delivered. They would have no recourse, nor would I. He wanted to be certain that I had no power to thwart him. It was all a sham. What kind of mind does he have that he could think of such a plan?"

"My question would be to ask what kind of heart he has, to even consider using his own son like that! I was wrong years ago when I told you he wasn't a bad man. Mingo, you are right. He is as shallow, greedy, expeditious and immoral as you have always maintained. You are unlike him in every way!" Chris' words exploded in the sunny cabin.

The two men fell silent. Christopher Dary pondered the nature of a man so obsessed with power that he would betray his own son. Mingo sat thinking of his mother, the quiet, honorable Cherokee woman who had loved John Murray. The _Lady Grey_ began to rock with the gentle Atlantic swells. Mingo leaned back in the soft warm chair, closed his eyes and fell quietly asleep.

Hours later he said goodbye to Christopher Dary. The kind sea captain held the handshake for long moments. His voice was soft as he spoke to the wounded man before him. "Mingo, delight in you own heart and mind. You can't change what has happened. But you can rejoice proudly that you didn't succumb to your father's will. You never have. You are easily the strongest personality that I've ever known."

The captain continued. "I also consider you one of the most interesting men that I've ever met. Don't be a stranger. Write to me. I will look for your letters every time I dock here in Philadelphia. Don't disappoint me."

Mingo reached into his belt and pulled out two copper pence. "Buy something for your children and tell them it's from me. Tell them how fortunate they are to have a father like you. Tell them that you have a lifelong friend in the wilds of Kentucky. Make sure you describe me accurately. Won't that make a great tale around the winter fire?"

Captain Dary smiled to see the humor returning to the brown eyes above him. He smiled broadly and nodded in agreement. Then he released Mingo's warm hand. Waving, he strode part way up the _Lady_'s gangplank. With an affectionate smile he turned and watched as the Cherokee walked out of sight. Then he returned to his cabin and carefully, methodically and with much satisfaction burned all the papers John Murray left in his care.

Mingo returned to Boonesborough before Nature's artist began decorating the trees for autumn. He found Daniel and Yadkin once again arguing about the young woman that had taken their fancy so long ago. Quietly he slipped to stand at the end of their table. He suddenly leaned over and suggested, "Could her name have been Evelyn Elizabeth?"

Dan and Yad both jumped at the sudden strong voice interrupting their argument. Their wide eyes focused on Mingo's grinning face. Then they looked at each other, the possibility slowly dawning in their eyes. Yad nodded and slapped his hand on the plank table. "Doggone it, Mingo, you answered the riddle! That's it exactly. Evelyn Elizabeth Billows. I remember now. How'd you think o' that?"

"It only made sense. I have known you both for some time now. My experience has shown me that you both have good memories. Therefore you both must be remembering correctly. You each called her by a different name, that's all."

Daniel beamed at his Cherokee friend. "Sit down and join us, Mingo. We're having an ale. Let's celebrate Evelyn Elizabeth. My treat this time."

Mingo nodded in the affirmative and the three men sat visiting for several minutes. Daniel keep sneaking glances at Mingo's face, searching for signs of tension. There were none. Mingo looked more relaxed than Daniel had ever seen him. He sipped his tankard of ale and pondered the possibilities.

An hour later Daniel bid Yad goodbye. Mingo did the same and the two friends walked from the tavern in silence. Just before reaching the cabin Mingo stopped walking and pulled Daniel aside. He sat comfortably with his back against a large sycamore, the smooth bark cool in the fading light. Daniel sat beside him, waiting. With no preliminary Mingo laid out his findings. "My father planned to use me as a pawn, Daniel. This I suspected. He also planned on blaming me for everything if the plot to steal Kentucky went awry. The key opened a drawer in Captain Dary's desk where he had placed all the incriminating documents."

"Mingo, I….."

"Wait, Daniel, there's more. I have a half-brother. Lord Dunsmore married a Scotswoman with highly placed connections to the English throne. Their son will inherit the title and become the fifth Lord Dunsmore."

Daniel searched Mingo's face for any sign of anger or disappointment. He found only relief and joy. Frowning, Daniel sat thinking about Mingo's revelations. Beside him Mingo watched his friend as he puzzled over the information. Very softly Mingo explained. "Daniel, I am free. I am completely free of him for the first time in my life. I am not the heir to the title. Don't you see? There will be no more pressure, no more bribes, no more haranguing. The pleas are gone, the endless threats are gone. The constricting expectations are gone."

Mingo sighed deeply. "I am free to remember him as he was for the few short years that he was unburdened. While he was in my mother's lodge, Daniel, he was able to lay down the titled position and love me for who I am. He loved my mother. It took him years to admit that, and when he did it was too late. I think the bitterness took hold of him then and pushed out all the gentler emotions."

"I don't envy my brother at all. Not only is he doomed to live a life of smothering rigidity but he will never know the exhilaration that freedom brings. They lost Edmund Murray, but I gained Caramingo."

Mingo stood and tugged on his vest. There was no hard metal key to poke into his side, no reminder of the confining duty that he had fled. The unfettered breeze blew through his long black hair, caressed his bare arms and whispered promises. Above him through the broad leaves of the sycamore the first evening stars brightened the heavens. Like them, the light sparkling in Mingo's dark eyes would never again be dimmed.


End file.
